Just in time for the holidays, the Virginia brewery’s stout gets its seasonal kick from ginger, honey, Vietnamese cinnamon, and plenty of Madagascar bourbon vanilla beans. Consider it Christmas by the glass.

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On November 19, at the stroke of midnight, my daughter, Violet, came screaming into the world. I looked over at my wife, Jenene, exhausted yet elated while cradling our newborn, and thought to myself, I could really use a celebratory beer.

It was my wife, however, who really needed a beer. Her pregnancy encapsulated nine months of cruel irony. As a beer journalist, I spend my days, nights, and sometimes mornings sampling bitter India pale ales, crisp lagers, and stouts as dark as December night. Save for a few sips here and there, Jenene’s pregnancy was her own personal form of Prohibition. But now that Violet has arrived, Jenene is free to unwind with a beer or two.

In fact, it might be necessary. Beyond dulling the ache of a screaming infant and sleepless nights, drinking beer might actually be beneficial for my wife’s newest job: breastfeeding. According to a study in the journal Advances in Experimental Medicine and Biology, researchers in Munich discovered that polysaccharides in barley—the main building blocks of beer—stimulates prolactin, which encourages milk’s production.

And what better beer to drink than a milk stout, which has long been associated with nursing mothers and, curiously, invalids. “I love how those get clumped together,” says Ro Guenzel, the head brewer at Colorado’s Left Hand Brewing, which makes a marvelous milk stout.

The milk stout style got its start as a literal blending of stout porter (as the stronger stuff was then known) with milk, which served as a lunchtime reviver to help laborers endure the dregs of the workday. In time, brewers began adding milk directly to the beer during fermentation before switching to lactose, a.k.a. milk sugar. (When added to beer, lactose creates a fuller body and imparts a sweetness that balances out the roasted characteristics.)

Milk stout was popular in Great Britain in the early half of the 20th century, when brewers touted the dark dram as a nutritious—and occasionally doctor-prescribed—tonic suitable for nursing mothers. As the century dragged on, though, milk stout waned in popularity. Following World War II, the British government allegedly banned brewers from using the word milk in ads and labels and touting milk stout’s healthful properties, and it went under the generalized mantle of sweet stout.

For once, America has laxer labeling restrictions. Here milk stout proudly boasts its dairy-case designation, though drinking too much as a new mom may be discouraged. Alcohol has been found to inhibit milk’s production, with babies drinking less milk in the four hours following Mom knocking back a bottle. (There are no such issues with nonalcoholic beer, but where’s the fun in that?) After nine months of pregnancy—plus a few weeks for a tardy birth—my wife deserves a great beer, not an O’Doul’s. And while milk stouts are doubtlessly having a moment (see a few great ones to try in the slideshow), these dark, smooth, and lightly sweet brews may not be the best style for mom and baby.

“In my vicarious experience, hoppy beers always seemed to be best for my nursing wife,” says Guenzel, a father of two. “My mother, a lactation consultant, claims that the estrogenic and slightly sedating properties of hops help to relax mothers and stimulate their milk production.”

With parenthood, though, we’d prefer if the bitterness came later. For now, we’ll toast to the milk (stout) of human kindness. Here are nine to try.

Just in time for the holidays, the Virginia brewery’s stout gets its seasonal kick from ginger, honey, Vietnamese cinnamon, and plenty of Madagascar bourbon vanilla beans. Consider it Christmas by the glass.